Unofficial Portkey Archive

Author's Note: On the short side, and on the very sad side (well, I wanted it to be anyway ;)). I've already been hexed, I believe, but please, once again, refrain from killing me, or you'll never know what happens next. And it so is the best part *nods* This story has been maturing in my head for a year, I hope it's like good wine, lol.
The title of this chapter comes from the James Blunt song 'Goodbye my lover', which I listened to on loop (sometimes mixed with Damien Rice's 'Amie') while writing this chapter.

Part 7

Her vision was blurred when she opened her eyes and she blinked a few times, trying to bring it into focus. She could make out the silhouette of a man sitting by her bed, leaning forward in his seat. She was laying in her large bed without a pillow under her head, which probably explained why her neck felt so stiff, partly covered by the blankets. And then finally, her vision came into focus and she could make out who it was. Ron was sitting there, looking at her with great concern. And as she looked at him in silence, the previous events came rushing back. The trip at Hogsmeade, being knocked out, waking up bound and gagged in the Shrieking Shack, Voldemort and then...and then..

After a long moment of starring at Ron in silence, she felt herself break apart. Her face twisted in her grimace as she broke down into heavy sobs, her shoulders shaking as she cried. Ron felt his own tears trail down his face as he reached out for her and pulled her into his arms, half sitting, half laying on the bed. He held her as tightly as he could, wincing in pain as her fingernails dug into his skin through the light fabric of his shirt but not letting go. He did not try to confort or calm her, he simply let her cry knowing that nothing he could say would help. Losing Ginny had thought him that. As she cried, she repeated Harry's name over and over again and every time felt like a cold stab in the heart.

His knees had given up on him when Dumbledore himself had apparated to the Burrow to inform him and the rest of the Weasleys of Harry's death. He had heard his mother cry and would have had marveled at seeing the twins silenced had the circonstances been different. He had screamed and he had cried, but nothing had changed what was. His best friend was gone, forever. At Dumbledore's request he had apparated back to Hogwarts with him, not that anything could have kept him from coming. He had immediatly been lead to Hermione's room, where she was kept asleep by a charm. In silence, he had sat for half a day before the charm had worn off and she had woken up.

When he had come to announce them the sad news, Dumbledore had also informed them of what he knew of the events leading up to and following Harry's death. The wards placed around Hogsmeade during their sixth year to detect dark magic had gone off at the use of the crucio curse and members of the Order of the Phoenix had fled to the source, the Shrieking Shack. There, they had been greated with the horrifying scream of Hermione, finding an entrance that had never been there before and entering the house to find an equally horrifying scene. Hermione was sitting on the ground, craddling in her arms the lifeless body of Harry, her fingers in his hair. She was crying, blood from small injuries on her face offering a troubling contrast with her pale face, Harry's black cloak falling over her shoulders and covering a part of Harry's body. She had screamed like a fury when they had tried to pry her away from him, kicking the air despite a severe wound to her right leg that bled profusely. Tonks had used a sleeping charm on her and she had collapsed in the witch's arms, unconcious. She had been brought back to the nursery, where Pomfrey had cared for her wounds, then to her room where she had slept for a whole day. She still bore the marks of Voldemort's claws on her face, three little half moons on her left cheek that had refused to heal completely no matter how many balms or potions had been used. Like herself, it would take time to heal, Dumbledore had said, before retiring sadly to his quarters, leaving Ron alone with Hermione in the room.

As he had sat, watching her sleep, he had allowed himself to fall back into the familiar and comforting memories of his past, of his first six and a half years at Hogwarts. Before Ginny had been taken away from him, before all of this. Their sixth year had been relatively calm, the hints of a menace only making themselves known after the winter break. The second half of the year and especially the following summer had been quite more traumatic, but their seventh year had began nicely, allowing them to breathe. And then, the attack on the Chamber of Secrets had fallen upon them, leading to the death of Ginny and everything had fallen apart. And this was his punishment, for treating Harry the way he had. He had lost the best friend he'd ever had and probably would ever have.

As Hermione held on for dear life to him, crying until she fell back to sleep, he had only one thought. Whatever happened, he would protect her. He would not lose her like he had lost Harry.

Hermione dropped down on her seat at the Gryffindor table with a long sigh, a far cry from her usually posed manners. Ron froze with his hand holding a buttered toast halfway to his mouth and looked at her. She said nothing, staring down at her empty plate, then allowing her eyes to scan the table before they came to rest on the plate again. 'Hermione?'

She looked up at him with a frown, which faded as soon as she caught his worried expression. She began to babble something he could not quite catch, then her voice broke and she froze, paralyzed. Everyone in the Great Hall was staring at her, just as they had been looking at Ron ever since he had come to sit there. Next to Hermione, Harry's usual place was horribly empty. Ron dropped the toast in his own plate and extended his now free hands across the table as he stood, placing both of them on her shoulders. Slowly, she raised her eyes to his and for the first time he caught a clear glance of the dark circles under her red eyes, the pallor of her face, the yet unhealed marks on her cheeks. Every time he looked at them, they reminded him of what had happened, as if he needed an incentive to remember. 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...I'm not even hungry, I don't know why I even came here.'

It had been two days since he had come to Hogwarts, two horribly long days filled with tears from everyone, even some Slytherins. Draco had failed to return to school, confirming his role in all this wrong-doing. Hermione had remained in her room, sitting silently in her bed, looking horribly pale and numb. She had not shed a tear after waking up the second time and this was the first time she had come out. Class had been cancelled for the week, no students nor teachers able to concentrate in such circonstances. Today was the day he feared most of all, Harry's funeral.

'Are you sure? You haven't eaten much since...'

'I...yes, I'm sure. I feel nauseous anyway', Hermione said, slowly getting up. She gave her empty plate one last look before she turned away and walked out the same way she came in, Ron mimicking her on the other side of the table. The met at the door and continued walking as he slipped a comforting arm around her shoulders. At this, Hermione flinched and he could see what he had just done had been reminiscent of something Harry had done many times. With his hand, he squeezed her shoulder gently and she smiled sadly, allowing him to lead her back to her room. The portrait swung open and they climbed up the few solid rock steps leading up to the door. Ron pushed it open and softly pushed her in, following behind her. On her bed, he saw that she had prepared her clothes for the funeral, a simple black muggle dress and shoes he remembered seeing her wear at Ginny's own funeral, but next to it was neatly folded what he recognized to be Harry's cloak. Without a look at him she went to sit a the window and brought her legs against her chest, leaning her head against the glass and peering down at the Hogwarts grounds. He stood there, uncomfortably shifting his weight from foot to foot, wondering if he should leave of if she wished for him to stay. Finally, he opted for staying and made his way to the window seat, sitting down in the small space that was left. 'Are you parents coming?'

She nodded absently, looking at an empty spot in the horizon. Ron's eyes remained on her, searching for a sign that would indicate what she needed to be told to make things better, to make her finally react and not be numb anymore. As much as he hated to see her cry, he preferred tears to seeing her like this, so cold. After several minutes of silence, she turned away from the window to look at him. In the last two days, everybody who wasn't yet aware of Harry and Hermione's relationship had learned about it, the craziest of rumors about what had happened circulating the school before Dumbledore had set the record straight and simply told the students the truth, as he had done when Cedric had died, because Harry's memory deserved respect.

'I don't want to talk about Harry being gone. There's no point...,' she began, stopping abruptly and getting up before crossing the room to sit on her bed, where she gently stroked the cloak with her palm. 'There's no point in talking about how I feel when my life's been ripped apart. I don't want to talk about my feelings, I don't want to talk about what happened that night. Because... It's my fault, it all is. I was selfish, I only thought of myself.' By the time she was over, she was almost screaming, her eyes filled with tears and her face red. Ron began shaking his head as he got to his feet, wanting to tell her that none of this was her fault, but she continued before he could do any of it. 'It's my fault! I wanted to be with Harry so bad that I didn't even think about what would happen when Voldemort learned that Harry had a girlfriend. Of course he was going to get to him through me! I was an idiot, selfish child and now Harry's gone and I...'

Tears were now falling freely on her face and she had stood, waving her hands wildly in the air to emphasize her words. He closed the distance that seperated them and once again pressed both hands on her shoulders. 'I need him Ron, I need him so much. I can't... I'm nothing without him...'

And at once, her knees gave up on her and she slumped onto the ground, bringing him with her as she collapsed. His arms around her and his chin resting on the top of her head, he held her against his chest as she sobbed heavily, clawing at the front of his shirt, crying out as if in pain. And he knew she was, because he felt it too. He didn't think that anything could feel worse than losing his sister, but the amount of loss he had endured in the last few months, in addition to having to deal with a broken Hermione, made for a pain that made it difficult to think or breathe.

And as Hermione came down the stairs that afternoon, Harry's cloak weighing heavily on her small frame and covering her entire body down to her feet, she found that not thinking at all was better. The pain was easier to deal with when you sat in silence, staring in front of you and telling yourself that none of this was really happening. When you allowed people to guide you were you needed to go without saying a word. It was much harder to stand in front of them all to drop a single rose on the rectangular piece of white marble that served as Harry's coffin without collapsing but somehow, she managed, allowing Ron to bring her back to her front row seat, an empty look in her eyes. It was much easier to not think about anything at all.

Author's Note: And I repeat, please do not kill me. Yes, he is really really dead, but... You'll have to read the next chapter when it (most likely) comes out this friday. I would have added to this chapter, but I felt this needed a chapter of its own, to reintroduce Ron (by the way, this won't turn into a R/Hr fic, oh my god, no!) and state that Harry is really gone or is he? Well yes. But really? ;) And this marks my first chapter without a flashback! (which is because there's only one left and it will constitute most of the next chapter...dun dun dun!)